"Or him that wicked pony's carried "To the dark cave, the goblins' hall, "Or in the castle he's pursuing, "Among the ghosts, his own undoing; "Or playing with the waterfall." At poor old Susan then she railed, While to the town she posts away; "If Susan had not been so ill, "Alas! I should have had him still, "My Johnny, till my dying day." Poor Betty! in this sad distemper, Even he, of cattle, the most mild, And now she's got into the town, And to the doctor's door she hies ; The town so long, the town so wide, And now she's at the doctor's door, She lifts the knocker, rap, rap, rap, The doctor at the casement shews, His glimmering eyes that peep and doze ; "Oh Doctor! Doctor! where's my Johnny ?" "I'm here, what is't you want with me?" "Oh Sir! you know I'm betty Foy, "And I have lost my poor dear boy, "You know him--him you often see ; "He's not so wise as some folks be," "The devil take his wisdom!" said The Doctor, looking somewhat grim, "What, woman! should I know of him?" And, grumbling, he went back to bed. "O woe is me! O woe is me! "Here will I die; here will I die ; "I thought to find my Johnny here, "But he is neither far nor near, "Oh! what a wretched mother I!" She stops, she stands, she looks about, Poor Betty! it would ease her pain If she had heart to knock again; -The clock strikes three-a dismal knell! Then up along the town she hies, This piteous news so much it shock'd her, To comfort poor old Susan Gale. And now she's high upon the down, She listens, but she cannot hear The foot of horse, the voice of man ; The streams with softest sound are flowing, The grass you almost hear it growing, You hear it now if e'er you can. The owlets through the long blue night Fond lovers, yet not quite hob nob, That echoes far from hill to hill. Poor Betty now has lost all hope, And now she sits her down and weeps ; Such tears she never shed before; "Oh dear, dear pony! my sweet joy! "Oh carry back my idiot boy! "And we will ne'er o'erload thee more." |